Girl with No Name
by TheCrimsonNight
Summary: Based on the song "His Favorite Christmas Story" by Capital Lights


Girl with No Name

He stepped into the spectacular ball room, weaving between the guests that wore their finest clothes. Only fine ball gowns and fully adorned suits were allowed at this small town Christmas Eve dance.

He stopped over by the refreshment table, thinking over the situation at hand. He was just passing through and he decided to go to the party, not because he met anyone. He knew no one and no one had spoken to him yet, so mostly the evening was mostly uneventful. Well, until he noticed someone step through the door across the room...

It was a young lady around his age, maybe a year or so younger. Her dark brown hair was pinned up near the crown of her head and fell in elegant curls that barely touched her neck and shoulders. Her lips were a deep shade of red and pulled into a smile as she greeted the people around her. The red of her dress and lips contrasted a great deal against her pale olive skin. Her dress complimented her nicely, the skirts flowing around her as she walked. She turned just enough, locking gazes with him with an even sweeter smile.

His breath caught in his throat and he couldn't help smiling back at her. Her amber eyes twinkled and she waved at him before turning to the blond girl next to her. The clock chimed to tell all the guests it was ten o'clock, making sure they all heard. The party would end in an hour!

"I have to ask her to dance," the young man told himself. The only problem was what if she turned him down? He thought this through for quite a while, and then looked at the clock. He had wasted fifteen minutes over his own cowardice and pride! He sighed then summoned his courage, taking a two glasses of wine from the table and heading toward the direction he had seen her last. He could at least talk to her; there was no shame in that. He was leaving this town in the morning, the least he could do was talk with her.

The only problem was finding her. He weaved between the dancers and bystanders, looking for her curls or maybe a flash of dark red between all the pale colors of the other women here. He was careful not to spill the wine as well, the last thing he wanted to do was anger anyone here. He spotted the blond girl that the mysterious young lady had spoken to earlier in the evening, barely able to sneak in a question.

"Miss, that young lady you were talking to earlier, where did she go?" he asked her. She looked over him and spotted the two glasses. A smile spread over her pale features and she giggled.

"She said she was going to talk to a young man over by the refreshments. She is over there now," she replied before turning back to another guest. I hurried over to the table, giving up with the wine and setting it down. I stopped at a mirror, making sure I looked decent before going over to her.

"Well hello, young sir," she smiled, taking some of her skirt and giving him a curtsy. She held out her hand, which he took. He bowed and kissed the back of her gloved hand.

"May I be so bold as to ask you to dance?" He said with a smile. Finally, a quarter to eleven.

"I thought you would never ask," she replied with a grin, following him onto the dance floor. The carolers sang and the musicians played the songs that set a romantic feel in the room. They never said a word during the dances they shared, their eyes said it all. It was love at first sight.

The clock struck eleven too fast for either of their tastes. Both were unhappy and reluctant to leave, even though they were the only ones on the dance floor. He led her to the door and then to her car, where they lingered for a moment.

"May I see you tomorrow?" she asked hopefully. The pain in his eyes showed her the answer.

"I have to leave tomorrow morning. I would gladly stay, but I have to work."

"Well, we will meet again someday. I know we will." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and climbed into the vehicle, giving him a breath taking smile before starting it up and heading out. He stood in shock for a moment; his fingers lingering where she kissed him. Then he realized that he never got her name. He drove to his hotel room that night, getting changed and climbing into bed to dream of his girl with no name.

Reluctantly he got up in the morning, packed up the clothes in his bag, and then left the small town. His heart ached to see her, but he never would dare ask where she lived to pay her a visit uninvited. He sighed, thinking only of her as he passed out of the small state of Delaware.

A couple years later, he pulled into a small diner off the road. It was Christmas and he was more than delighted to finally have something to eat. He climbed out of his vehicle and stepped through the door, seeing it was completely deserted.

He sat down at a small table in the middle of the checked floor and smiled as the young waitress came over.

"What can I get you, sir?" she said, her happiness showing on her face and in her eyes. She was dressed in red and white, wearing a Christmas hat. It was obvious this was her favorite day of the year.

"The Christmas special would be fine, ma'am," he replied with a grin. She disappeared behind the counter and into the back, coming back after a few minutes.

"It'll be done soon," she said. "Could you spread a little holiday cheer? Just tell me a good Christmas story, that's all I ask."

"Here's my favorite Christmas story about a girl with no name," he said with a smile, prepared to tell her everything. She sat down across from him as he told about his mysterious dance partner that he never knew very well.

"So have you seen her since?" she asked when he finished.

"No, but I still look for her," he replied as he took the last bite of his biscuit. She had brought his food some time ago and he ate while he told her the story, she didn't seem to mind.

For years he traveled around the country, telling everyone about the young lady every Christmas season. They all knew him as The Christmas Story Telling Travelling Man. He finally settled down at age fifty-three, all the neighborhood children would come to his front yard and listen to his stories about his adventures.

Every Christmas Eve they showed up before dark, to listen to him tell the story called the Girl with No Name. Crowds would join him in the yard, even though they all knew it by heart. They loved to hear him tell it every year, he told it the best. They could all tell it, just not as good as him.

"I met her up in Delaware in 1937; she was wearing red lipstick to match her pretty dress. December 24th at a quarter till eleven is when I finally gained the courage to ask her to dance."

Twenty years passed; all the children grew older and moved away with their own families, leaving him all alone. He was in the hospital, taking his last breaths on a cold Christmas morning. The nurse was the only one there, sitting next to him and holding his hand.

"Ma'am, could you spread a little holiday cheer?" He asked. A simple Christmas story was all he wanted to hear. She smiled.

"Certainly," she said as she watched his face. "I met him up in Delaware in 1937, though I never caught his name; he was a traveling man. December 24th at a quarter to eleven, I'm so glad he got the courage to ask me to dance."

"That was you?" he asked, his eyes tearing up. She smiled gently and nodded. "Do you know how long I've been looking for you?"

"As long as I've been looking for you," she replied with that same twinkle in her eyes.

"Wait, what's your name?" he asked his breath slowing and his eyes drooped.

"Annabelle," she replied, squeezing his hand. "It's good to officially meet you, Darren."

"The pleasure's mine," he whispered, before passing away with a smile on his face.


End file.
